


Electricity's Not In My Soul

by orphan_account



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Gen, M/M, post-electroma, reversal au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 15:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1271314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Electroma. The robots' motherboards are found in the desert, and they awaken as what they strove to be in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Electricity's Not In My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Daft Punk fic I've done (and published). I don't know if I'll continue it after this.  
> Title is based on a Steam Powered Giraffe song.

 Guy-manuel remembers his sensors overloading, heat, and flame licking at the material of his body. Then things went black.

Thomas remembers thoughts whirring in his human brain, and perhaps a fleeting moment of longing, or sadness. Emotion. Then nothing.

* * *

 

It's several weeks later that Guy-Manuel is awoken, but to him it feels like moments have passed. He sits up, desperate to find the remnants of his best friend, his fallen partner, and is shocked to feel cords tugging at him. He glances down – where he expected black fabric, charred and still covered in hot embers, his optics find something lighter. He stops, feels something in his chest, and reaches his hand to move the sheet covering him. His hand is pale.

He jolts, shocked, and panics for a moment. He studies his hand, hoping that an answer will come out of the apparent skin there –

Skin.

Skin?

He places his hand on his chest; It's bare and warm and he feels something below his skin, thumping rhythmically. He feels his chest move. He's breathing, taking in lungfuls of air and he didn't even realize. He has eyes, not optics, and he reaches a hand up and touches his new face, ignoring now the cords attached to his wrists and chest. He feels skin, warm and soft beneath his fingertips, feels his lips move when he smiles. For the first time, he's human. He chokes on a breath, attempting to laugh, not understanding why he's doing so.

A wetness falls from his eyes and he panics, not knowing what it means.

A door slams loudly across the room, and he feels his heart pound, he jolts so hard the cord on his left wrist rips off. His eyes become fogged, he can't see, and he feels hot wetness roll down his cheeks, his lungs practically burning with how fast his breathing has become. Footsteps approach him and a man's hand is on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

It takes him a moment to process that there are words being said, not just sounds. He breathes deep, trying to stop the wetness coming from his eyes, the hiccups that interrupt him.

“I--” His throat jerks with the motion of another hiccup, “Don't know.” He hears a shuffling next to him, a scraping noise, and a chair is brought up next to his bed.

“Do you know who you are?” Guy-Manuel looks over, taking in the face of the man next to him. He's old, with white hair receding and showing his bald head; But he's got a caring gaze and his hands are gentle as he reattaches the lost cord to Guy's left wrist. Guy can only watch for a moment, then nod his head.

“Then please, do tell me your name.” His voice has some sort of accent that Guy can't place, but he finds it comforting as the man sits back slightly, smiling.

“Guy--” He chokes on his own saliva, unused to speaking with a mouth and vocal cords. He clears his throat. “Guy-Manuel.”

“And what of your friend?”

Guy felt his heart leap, desperation in his voice. “Is he here?”

“Not in this room, but yes, your friend is here. He hasn't woken up yet, but now that you have, I'm sure he'll come around soon.” The man smiles, the creases next to his eyes deepening. Guy-Manuel rubbed at his own face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks.

* * *

Thomas knows something is off when he wakes up. He purposely set himself to destruct out of fear and desperation. So why is he awake, and why does he feel something in his chest?

He sits up, feeling something in the pit of his abdomen. The feeling rises, and he finds himself heaving; And he knew he must be broken, because he's never felt this before. He puts a hand on his abdomen, feeling it jerk as he takes in deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He looks down, sees skin, and panics.

The feeling in his stomach rises to his throat, and he lifts himself from where he's laying, facing a white wall as the contents of his new, human stomach seem to empty itself onto the floor. He groans, leaning back to lay down once more with a sick taste in his mouth. Internally, he's grateful to be human. For now, he should sit and let his new body adjust.

* * *

The doctor in the room – he revealed himself to be named “Doctor G” - sits with the newly-human Guy-Manuel and comforts him, a hand on the young man's shoulder as he speaks of the human culture and what things he will be going through.

“But no matter what, you have to remember not to tell others of your origins. It may cause... problems.” He said, standing and turning away from Guy-Manuel. He'd moved to a cupboard, rummaging for several moments before returning with a shirt and pants, handing them off to the former robot.

There was a buzzing next to the doctor's wrist, interrupting him. He studied a small device on his wrist for several moments before standing, “I will be right back. It seems as though your friend has woken up.”

Guy jumped forward. “Can I see him? Please, just let me-- Let me see him?”

The doctor paused, then smiled. “Of course. But you might not recognize him.”

* * *

It took several minutes for the doctor to remove all the cords from Guy-Manuel's person and get him situated with new clothing, but once he was up, the newly-formed human couldn't keep himself from wobbling. So, the elder man put a hand on his shoulder and began to guide him down the hallway, its surroundings a stark contrast to the pure white room that he was housed in before. It was more... Inviting, Guy supposed, though why, he couldn't place. It was a dull green color with brown flooring, what made it so much more comforting than the white room he'd been in before?

“Guy-Manuel? Are you listening?”

“Huh?” His long hair swept into his face as he turned his head.

“I was explaining how we re-formed you. Does it not interest you?” The old man's face looked slightly downtrodden.

Guy-Manuel shook his head. “I find it interesting enough, but,” He looked around once again, keeping step for step the pace the doctor had. “I want to know what happened to Thomas.”

“Thomas?” The doctor raised a brow, and at Guy-Manuel's irritated expression, he realized. “Oh, your friend. Yes, well, we'll be able to ask him in a moment or two.”

Guy saw two young people make their way out of a door, a cart between them. It looked to be full of buckets and bottles and cleaning supplies. He tilted his head in confusion as the doctor stopped them in front of the door that the two just came out of, but was stopped before he could speak as the door was opened and he was pushed in.

* * *

Thomas knew it was a good thing that these two young people had cleaned up around him, but he couldn't help but feel irritated. His head hurt, couldn't they have waited a little while?

It was kind of funny, in the end; He sounded the way Guy-Manuel sounded in his head.

Guy-Manuel.

_Guy-Manuel!_

He has to be out there, Thomas knew he was. He sat up quickly, a heavy dizziness rising to his head. He fought against it, trying his best to remove a cord attached to his wrist, fumbling as his fingers became weak. He was so close to getting up and out of here to find his best friend, so _close-_ -

The door opened with a loud creak, and Thomas groaned. It hurt his head more, didn't those people understand that?

He glanced up, and instead of the two interns that had been there earlier, and elder man and a man with long brown hair stepped in. The elder gestured to Thomas, saying something to the younger man that he couldn't quite hear. He saw the young man's face light up for a moment before he rushed forward, obviously slow and unbalanced.

“Thomas?” The voice was quiet, timid.

Thomas froze. He had to think carefully for several moments, seeing the hope drain from the young man's eyes before he realized what was going on.

“Guy-Manuel?” He whispered, his own voice painful to his ears.

Guy-Manuel nodded harshly before climbing up next to him on the bed, throwing his arms around him. “You're alive. We're alive!” His voice was quiet as tears welled in Guy's eyes once again, pressing his face against Thomas's shoulder. “We're human, just like we wanted, and now I can't stop crying--” The doctor had explained what crying was to him in the hallway.

“Yeah.” Thomas hugged his friend gently, his arms still weak and his head still dizzy. He pulled Guy-Manuel close to him, leaned back, and let out a deep breath. His own eyes were tearing up, and he felt his friend tense up and begin to sob into his shoulder.

“Why would you leave me?” Guy managed, his forehead pressed against Thomas's shoulder, “I didn't know what to do after you-- You--”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know you are, but why did you--”

“Because I didn't know what to do. I was... scared.” Thomas sighed, “And I'm scared now. I'm scared of what's going to happen to us. Why are we--”

“Because when I heard what happened in that town you two were in,” The doctor approached them, breaking their moment together, “I was curious. And when the rest of the story was explained to me, I went searching for you. What I found were... Well, parts.”

“Parts?” Thomas pushed Guy away from him slightly, staring at his friend. “ _Parts_? You didn't--” He knew from the way Guy was hiding his eyes that his suspicions were true.

Guy-Manuel hid his face guiltily in Thomas's shoulder, avoiding the gaze of his friend. “Guy-Manuel, why would you...?”

“It's over and done with, and we're here, together--”

“No, I wanted you to go on. Why would you...” Thomas tightened his arms, leaning his head back, dizzy. The doctor stood beside the two of them, silent.

“Because I couldn't even think about existing without you,” Guy said, “We were created together, and it felt... Wrong, without you. Like I was missing something, and I wouldn't work properly without you.”

The doctor cleared his throat, once again interrupting the two. “You were. You two were coded to work in tandem with one another – we lose one, we lose both of you. Thus why, I'm presuming, when Guy-Manuel awoke, so did you...Thomas, was it?” He waited for Thomas to nod slightly, trapped as he was between Guy-Manuel and his bed.

There was a long pause. “Now, it's getting late – and I know you two have been asleep for a very long time, so I'll get some interns to bring you some food and some things to preoccupy yourselves for the night.”

The two young men nodded together, resulting in Guy-Manuel practically under Thomas's chin, and the doctor turned to leave. “If you two have any questions, please feel free to contact me. Interns are available around the clock to get me.”

With that, he left, leaving the two to their discussions until interns arrived.

* * *

It didn't take long for interns to arrive, in actuality. Thomas and Guy-Manuel had finally calmed down, and seemed to have gained a bit of personality back. Thomas was smiling, playing with Guy-Manuel's new, long hair when the first one arrived, pulling behind himself a cart with food. The two didn't know how to react when at the first scent, their stomachs seemed to crawl around inside them and gurgle at them.

The intern simply laughed and explained that they were hungry, passed them each a sandwich, and excused himself out of the room, leaving the cart. Thomas took the first bite, slowly and gently, as though testing the waters. Guy followed suit, scrunching his nose at the unfamiliar and new scent before taking a bite larger than Thomas.

“Show off,” Thomas teased, mouth full of food. Guy-Manuel rolled his eyes and chewed silently, leaning his shoulder against Thomas.

The second intern arrived with some books, questioning the two on whether they could read in English – thankfully they had both been programmed in several languages before they were turned human, and retained most of that knowledge. This intern left with an accidental slamming of the door, causing Guy to jolt in place and cough, hitting his chest with his hand for several moments out of reflex. His coughs subsided, leaving him breathing heavily and leaning more on Thomas than before.

“You okay?” Thomas mumbled, putting an arm over his friend's shoulders. Somehow, having him closer made them both feel a bit better.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.” Guy set his half-eaten sandwich aside, curling himself into Thomas's side. Thomas, in turn, picked up one of the books the intern had brought in, and began reading out loud to his friend.

“It was a pleasure to burn,” He started, and felt Guy tense against him. He continued on. “It was a special pleasure to see things eaten, to see things blac--”

“Stop.”

“Huh?” Thomas shut the book slowly.

“Just-- Stop. Please? Read another book. Not that one.” Guy was huddled closer to him, his head now on Thomas's lap.

Thomas set the book aside slowly and reached now for Guy's hair once again instead of a new book, running his fingers through it. He liked the way it felt against his hand – smooth and soft, something he'd never felt, even with tactile sensors in his robotic body. So he sat with Guy-Manuel in his lap, stroking his hair, watching as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. For a moment, he was concerned – had he lost his friend again?

But he recalled a long time before, seeing people – humans – sleep in their own homes. His hand trailed to his friend's face, where it rested on his cheek. There was something just comforting about being able to feel him, rather than simply see him or know his presence.

So this was what they'd missed out on, not being human.

Thomas shuffled himself down, Guy's face now near his shoulder, and curled himself into his friend. He was warm and soft now, rather than all constant hard edges and cold metal. Not that he could truly feel the difference as a robot – his tactile sensors in that body had been pitiful.

He liked these tactile sensors much better.


End file.
